


Hallucification

by CLeighWrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Breathplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hair-pulling, Hallucifer, Hurt Sam Winchester, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Protective Dean Winchester, Rough Sex, S&M, Sam hallucinates Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15036077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites
Summary: You and Sam are engaged when Cas breaks the dam holding back all the memories of Sam’s time in the cage with Lucifer. You try to do everything you can to help, but will he be able to control himself when Lucifer shows up?





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> A request from @shadow-hokage (on Tumblr) I tried something different with this one, since Sam is the only that can see Lucifer, most of it is from his POV, I hope y’all enjoy it!!   
> The dialogue in the beginning is taken from the transcript of season 7 episode 1, Meet the New Boss.

Bobby’s House

Sam’s back. Sam is back. Sam is back.

You had to keep telling yourself; you just can’t believe it. After Stull you were positive that you were never going to see him again. The man who saved the world. The man you loved. The man you thought loved you back, but you never had the chance before they came up with the plan for him to say yes.

Not very long after he was back, you had started dating; and within months, after he got his soul back, you were engaged; life being too short to wait and all that. Not that you were complaining, you had loved him for years, and apparently he had loved you for just as long.

You were stuck manning the phones at Bobby’s while the boys were off trying to fix Cas after he swallowed up Purgatory. Well, they had a plan to trap Death and threaten him, but there was no reason for you to go along with them. You didn’t mind though; it gave you time to catch up on some sleep and read up on some more lore. Bobby had a great rare lore collection.

Even the best lore books, and all the sleep you could manage couldn’t quite calm your stomach. Sam had been off here lately and you couldn’t think of a thing to do to help him. You know Cas had broken ‘the dam’ that Death had set in place when he put his soul back in. You all had known that it probably wouldn’t last forever, but…you just couldn’t believe Cas would have done something like that, even with everything he had going on now.

The next day you were sitting in the den reading; you heard the Impala drive up, then you heard Dean shouting, the doors slamming and the three men walking up to the house.

“Hey, go easy,” Bobby was coaxing Dean.

“There’s nothing easy about it Bobby, okay?” Dean was obviously very upset about something, “We acted like he had everything under control.”

Sam walked in the door first and turned back to reply to his brother, “I get it. I’m sorry. Look, I - I didn’t exactly want to crack up, you know?”

“What the hell happened back there?” You could hear the desperation in Dean’s voice. Your heart raced, what had happened?

Sam put his hand through his hair as he walked into the room, smiling as he looked at you. You’re heart clenched when you saw that his other hand was wrapped up in a bloody cloth. “It’s not just the flashbacks anymore.”

“Well then what?” Dean was relentless, you couldn’t blame him. You had been just as worried about Sam as him and Bobby.

Sam walked over and sat next to you on the couch, resting his good hand on your leg, “It’s more like…I’m seeing through the cracks.”

Dean hefted out a breath, “What does that mean?”

Sam squeezed your leg and you placed your hand on his. He wasn’t looking at any of you, but looking more distressed than usual, “It means I’m having a difficult time figuring out what’s real.”

“Hallucinations,” Dean locked eyes with you, his jaw clenching.

“For starters,” Sam looked down at your hand on his.

Dean looked at Bobby, who offered nothing, then back at Sam, “Well, for starters, if you’re tripping Hell’s Bells, why would you hide that?”

Sam went on explaining what was happening. Apparently he wasn’t just getting glimpses of himself in the cage anymore; the Devil himself was there talking to him. Telling him that everything since he had escaped the cage was fake, and that it was his own personal torture not knowing which was the real world; who was real and who was the hallucination. The more he talked about it, the more your heart hurt. There is no reasoning that away, no argument could be made to prove either way or the other.

****

Sam was exhausted, and his hand was killing him. At least Lucifer wasn’t there, at the moment. He had no idea what he was going to do. Y/n snuggled closer into his side in their bed and hummed to herself. He squeezed her closer to him; just when everything was going right. Fucking Cas. Shit, that was one thing they hadn’t told her. Everyone was so concerned with his mental circus going on, they hadn’t even brought it up.

Sam looked down at her, she looked so peaceful laying there. Not tonight, he decided; it could wait. She took a deep breath and turned her face into his side, kissing his stomach. Sam felt a pool of warmth flow down his body.

Y/n smiled into Sam’s side, pushing her body to be flush with his. With her leg thrown over his her feet just did reach past his, even with her head being barely above his waist. He loved how easily she just tucked into him, and he always marveled at how she always seemed to be the one consoling him.

Sam moved his hand from resting on her shoulder, to trace his fingers lightly down her side. She shivered and started tracing her own fingers over his abdomen. Sam chuckled and looped his arm under hers to pull her face up to his. She put one of her hands on the side of his face and he leaned into it, closing his eyes. He wasn’t at all surprised when he felt her lips press into his. He breathed her in and held her as close as he could from that angle.

She seemed to agree with the angle being awkward and swung her leg all the way over to straddle him and he moved his hands to her hips. She was topless and only wearing a pair of purple cotton underwear. This right here, this was his favorite view in the whole world. Not only the way she looked, which was fucking gorgeous, but the way she looked at him. All the trust and understanding and love showing right there in her y/e/c eyes. She smiled down at him and wiggled her hips, making the pressure build and his dick swell.

Suddenly Sam’s sweat pants were terribly restricting and he tried to ignore the discomfort, they wouldn’t be on for much longer. He dug his fingers into her hips and pushed his hips up into her, feeling the heat.

“I love you Sam, you know that right?” She leaned down and kissed him in that spot right under his ear that she knew drove him nuts. She licked a line up his neck up to his ear lobe and sucked it into her mouth, nibbling on it.

“I love you too,” Sam breathed as she worked her mouth all over Sam’s neck, making his now fully hardened cock twitch. Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head back, still holding y/n by her hips. She started rolling her hips as she assaulted his neck and jaw, using her fingers to pinch and toy with his nipples.

On one particular thrust Sam’s cock must have rubbed into y/n’s clit and she let loose a moan into his mouth. Something in him snapped at that and he grabbed y/n by the back of her head, and being careful not to use his injured hand, flipped them so that she was pinned under him. He pinned their pelvises together and leaned in, whispering in her ear, “Mmmm, the things I’m going to do to you…” It was his turn now to drive her mad. He wasted no time, latching on to her ear lobe as he shoved his hand down her belly and under her underwear in one swift move. God she’s so wet, he moaned into her neck and she lifted up to push harder against his hand.

“Sam,” her breathing was heavy and her eyes were blown wide with lust, “hurt me.” She bit her bottom lip and Sam didn’t think he had heard her right. In response, she grabbed Sam’s ass hard, thrusting her hips as she did.

“Y/n,” it was more of a groan than her name, “are you sure?” He could hardly focus, but he needed the release, that surge of power; and she knew it, was offering it to him.

“Yes, Sam. You need this…do whatever you need to. I’m OK,” there is was again, breaking it’s way through the lust; trust. She ran her fingers through his hair before grabbing hold at the roots.

Sam growled deep in his chest, burrying his head in her neck and biting down. Y/n purred, releasing his hair and running her nails down his back and under his pants, taking them down over his ass. That’s as far as she could reach on her own, so Sam leaned on his elbow and finished taking his pants off with his good hand. While he did that y/n took the oportunity to remove her own bottoms. Sam wasted no time lining himself up and plunging straight in, not waiting for her to acclimate. 

She bit back a scream, but didn’t try to stop him. He kept thrusting into her as deep and hard and fast as he could manage. He bit her neck and kept her pinned beneath him. When she tried to reach up to kiss him he simply grabbed her by the back of the head and held her down. This is exactly what he needed; a way to get all of his frustrations out.

Suddenly there was a knife thrown into the bed, sinking in to the hilt, inches away from y/n’s head. Sam jerked his head and there he was, "Use that Sammy. She said to hurt her. You need to hurt her, you want to. Go ahead, it’ll be fun!“

Sam shook his head, trying to block him out. He kept up his rhythm on y/n, not wanting to let on that, at least in his mind, they had an audience.

"Awe, come on Sammy, don’t ignore me. I could give you some pointers. You know some friendly advice,” Lucifer wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

Sam refocused his efforts and picked up his pace, “No.” Sam shook his head again and y/n reached towards his face, maybe to touch him or to run her fingers through his hair, he didn’t know. He couldn’t stand to be touched by her right now.

“Saaammmmmy…” Lucifer crooned at him, “She said to hurt her. Are you going to give her what she wants or not. You know, she doesn’t think you’ve really got what it takes. It’s not that she actually trusts you to not hurt her. She doesn’t think that you can.”

Sam bit his lip and pulled harder on y/n’s hair, arching her head back as far as it would go, he leaned down and bit her neck and her ear and anywhere he could get his mouth. She made noise, not entirely painful, but not entirely pleasureful either. He was getting close now, trying to block out Lucifer made him more aware of the physical sensations pumping through his body.

Sam used his busted hand to grab y/n by the throat, not wanting to let go of her hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that with that hand he wouldn’t be able to apply enough pressure to actually strangle her, but he just needed to silence somebody, and she was there and trusting and so willing. Her eyes went wide when he started to squeeze, but she neither said nor indicated that it wasn’t OK. He adjusted the angle of his thrusts and really built up his own release, not focusing on anything else.

After a short time y/n started to push on his arm. Sam looked down at her and her face was a flushed rose color all over. He felt his dick throb inside of her at the sight. He smiled down at her and clenched a little tighter at her throat. She started to push at him harder, and her fighting him really sent him closer to the edge. His hips started to stutter and his thrusts became more labored as the pressure built up inside of him.

Right before he came he let go of y/n’s throat and hair and she gasped for air. Her walls convulsing around him with every move she made was all he needed to release deep into her. He moaned, leaning closer to her as he pumped into her a few more times to really milk himself empty. He wasn’t quite finished with her before she had kicked and pushed herself out from underneath of him. She grabbed one of his shirts out of the chair by the door, not even turning to look at him as she left, not saying a word. 

Sam blinked at the closed door, realizing what all had just happened; too late. He had fucked up, let things go too far, he’d lost her trust.

“Sammy. You wanna know what I think? I think…maybe, you should have let her come first. I mean it is the polite, gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Shut up,” Sam’s voice was broken. He had gone too far and now he would loose her too. He couldn’t take that. “What do you want from me?”

“I’m getting it Sam. You thinking that you could have happiness. Get the girl, live a normal apple pie life. Please Sam. As if I’d let someone bust you out of the cage without me. You’re my bunk buddy. Where you are, I am. What you see and do and hear and smell and taste, that’s all me. Am I a genius, or what?”

“You’re not real. You’re not actually here. You’re a hallucination because the block in my head was taken away,” Sam was practically rocking himself on the bed. How could he have done that to her. He knew he needed to go after her and try to figure out how to fix this somehow. What could he possibly say or do to make it up to her. If it had gone on a minute longer, could he have…

“I’m here for you Sam. Always and forever,” Lucifer chimed in, then he started singing, “It’s you, and me forever…Sammy!”

****

You ran downstairs, the tears in your eyes making it impossible to see, but you knew this house like you knew Sam’s eyes. You made it to the den and couldn’t even make it across the room to the sofa before you crumbled to the cold floor. Now that you were sitting, the sobs began and your throat ached, still trying to gasp for breath. You tenderly put your hand over where his had been and you could feel where the bruising was starting. You ran the back of your hands over your eyes, wiping the tears away, and shakily stood up using the wall to steady yourself.

Just then someone cleared their throat behind you. You jumped backwards almost falling over a stack of books, and before you could break your own fall, strong arms were pulling you upright.

“Whoa, there. Didn’t mean to scare ya,” it was Dean. You weren’t sure if you were more revealed or disappointed that it wasn’t Sam. Your sobs started up again and you buried your face in his chest, his arms circling around you. “I know, I know. It’s been a rough day for all of us.”

You shook your head and pulled back to look him in the face. “That’s not it,” you tried to regulate your breathing, “It’s Sam, he…” you shook your head again, not able or willing to finish your thought.

Dean turned you so the light coming in from the window could light up your face and neck, and he figured out what had probably happened. You saw his eyes darken and narrow and he looked you in yours. He turned and looked toward the stairs, tensing. He went to leave you and you grabbed his arm.

“No, don’t. It wasn’t…he didn’t mean to. He’s just…” you thought about how Sam’s eyes had looked while he was choking you. You had never seen him look so unhinged; you couldn’t stand anymore and your legs gave way, but Dean had you in his arms before you even buckled and laid you down on the couch. The same couch that you and Sam had been sitting on just a few hours ago when he told you all that he was seeing Lucifer.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Dean sat in the floor next to you and rubbed soothing circles on your shoulder as he comforted you. “I’ve got you, y/n.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sam are engaged when Cas breaks the dam holding back all the memories of Sam’s time in the cage with Lucifer. In part 2, Sam deals with what he’s done to you, Dean helps Sam tell what’s real, and you do your best to keep him in the real world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 requested by @shadow-hokage (on Tumblr) This one ran a little longer than I planned…I would say sorry, but I’m not.   
> Dialogue is taken from season 7 episode 2, when Dean is in the warehouse with Sam telling him what's real. I also couldn't help adding in some Always Keep Fighting and You Are Not Alone in there...and some Beatles for fun.

Bobby’s House

You come to still on the couch where Dean had laid you down. You must have cried yourself to sleep shortly after that, you couldn’t remember anything other than the feeling of his fingers tracing reassuring shapes on your arm. Just as you were clearing the film from your eyes you registered what must have woke you. Raised voices coming from the mud room on the other side of the kitchen.

“It’s not like that Dean. I would never-” it was Sam, trying to keep his voice down.

“But you did, didn’t you?” Dean was just as livid as he had been last night.

“Morning,” Bobby startled you, walking in from the hallway, As he came in he got a good look at you and heard what was going on in the other room, “You OK, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you croaked, throat still raw from the events of last night.

Bobby just nodded and headed into the kitchen, “Boys,” he was using his dad voice, breaking up their argument; he tilted his head toward you as he went to the fridge.

You went to stand, not particularly wanting to face either one of the Winchesters, but got lightheaded and sat back down. They were both on their way into the room as you went back down; they came toward you but Dean was the only one to make it to the couch, Sam had stopped himself in the entryway.

“Y/n,” his voice was wrecked, and not it a good way. Now that you could see him you could tell that he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. More than likely he had stayed up all night hating himself for what he had done to you, what you had asked him to do to you.

“You OK sweetheart?” Dean had his hands steadying your shoulders, his voice back to it’s comforting lull and his eyes full of concern as he looked into yours. Seeing him in the daylight now he was practically vibrating with both anger at Sam and concern for you.

“I’m fine, would everyone stop asking me that!” Your threat not conveyed by the weakness of your voice. Dean released you, but moved to sit next to you on the couch, you could feel him daring Sam to come near you.

You tried to clear your throat wincing. Just then Bobby handed you a bottle of water, “Thanks Bobby.”

“Don’t mention it kid. Anyone want to explain to me exactly what’s going on here?”

“I just-” you started at the same time that Sam said, “I almost killed her last night.”

Your head snapped to look at Sam. “Sam…”

“No, y/n, it’s true. That’s what happened. You trusted me, and I-”

“Sam,” you went to stand again, slightly wobbly, but you didn’t feel like you were about to pass out this time. You walked over to him, he wouldn’t even look at you. When you reached out to grab his crossed arms, he shrunk away from you. You didn’t know what was worse; the fact that he wouldn’t look at you, or the fact that he wouldn’t let you touch him.

“Y/n, why don’t you get first shower,” Bobby suggested, his tone conveying that he was going to have a good talking-to with his boys.

You didn’t turn away from Sam, you needed him to know that you didn’t blame him for what happened. “In a minute. Sam, look at me, please,” you put all the tenderness you could into the command. He turned his head toward you, but wouldn’t meet your eyes. “What happened last night, it wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

You stood before him for a moment longer, and only just before you turned to walk away did his eye come up from the floor, freezing when he saw your neck, a disgusted look crossing his face. “How - how can you even bare to be in the same room as me y/n? Have you even seen yourself?”

“She doesn’t have to see it Sam, she can feel it,” Dean interjected.

“Dean,” you silenced him without taking your eyes away from Sam’s face, willing him to look you in the eye. You ducked your head down so that you met his eyes, bringing him back up with you against his will, “Sam, it’s really not as bad as it looks, you know how bad bruising looks.” You tried to shake it off and ended up wincing again. Sam’s eye’s shattered, then he was gone, out the door after three quick, long strides.

You went to move after him, but a hand suddenly on your shoulder stopped you. “I’ll go; you’re not even dressed. Go get a shower,” Bobby was always the sensible one, even if there wasn’t anyone nearby to care if you were only wearing a flannel that basically fit you like a dress.

“OK Bobby,” you turned after he was out the door and saw Dean eyeing you, “I really am fine Dean.”

“Save it for Sam, y/n; he’s not the one that held you while you cried yourself to sleep last night.” You sat next to him on the couch and laced your arm in his, leaning your head on his arm, not quite reaching his shoulder. He took in a shaky breath and covered your hand with his. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s going on with him. Then for him to do this…” he motioned at all of you with a flip of his hand.

You stiffened, “It’s really not his fault,” he scoffed, but you kept going, “I…asked him to,” you continued softly.

He shook his head, “No, you didn’t-”

“I did, maybe not exactly this, but I knew with all the stress he’s in that he needed,” you paused, knowing Dean didn’t really need to know all the details of Sam’s and your sex life, “a little bit…more…”

He held up his hand, “Yeah, yeah I get it. But, he wasn’t kidding when he said that he almost killed you. I know you say you’re fine, but we can see you, and I saw how you were last night.”

“I know. He just got carried away. It’s not his fault. I just wasn’t quite prepared for it is all. I really am fine.”

“Whatever you say sweetheart. But if it happens again, and he hurts you, even if you think you asked for it, I’ll kill him,” he paused to let his words take full effect, “go get in the shower, I’ll fix us up some food.”

****

The hot water did wonders for the stress in your shoulders, but nothing for the soreness in your neck. Now that you were in front of a mirror you could see why all the men were on edge. You really did look terrible. A very distinct Sam-sized hand print wrapped around your neck, the finger tips already an angry looking deep purple. You lifted your fingers up to it, flashing back to the look he had in his eyes when it had happened, shivering despite the humidity from your shower. 

You combed out your hair, and put on your moisturizer, then wrapped your towel tight around you, and padded down the hall to get dressed. When you got to Sam’s and your room what you found was enough to turn your blood cold.

You had expected to find a bit of a mess, with how disheveled Sam was, you hadn’t expected him to have sat staring at the walls all night. Not only did you find the broken lamp you had expected, but you also found the pillows and most of the bedding shredded to pieces. It looked like Freddie Kruger had bunked in your room last night. Your heart tightened in your chest as you thought about what Sam must have been going through to have caused this level of destruction.

After you got dressed you went back to the bathroom and grabbed a trash bag. You let your mind wonder while you pulled the bedding and the remains of the pillows off the bed and stuffed them into the bag, followed by the pieces of lamp. What could you possibly do to help him? Would he even let you if he wouldn’t even let you touch him? You set the bag in the corner to throw away later, not wanting Bobby or Dean to question it. You got new sheets and a few more pillows out of the linen closet and spare room, sitting them on the bed without making it up. You grabbed a scarf and went downstairs to eat breakfast.

Breakfast was quiet, only you and Bobby sitting to eat in the kitchen while Dean sat in the den, and Sam hadn’t come back inside after his talk with Bobby. The food was good, comforting pancakes with bacon and eggs. The grease and sweetness hitting your stomach perfectly in conjunction with the hot coffee to both fill you and make you a little more alert. You were trying to figure out what exactly had happened in y'all’s room. What would make him knife up the entire bed? What was Lucifer doing to him? Your heart was in knots, not being able to help him through this, him not even being able to look at you, let alone talk to you.

“He’ll be alright, Sam’s a tough kid. He’ll get through this, we all will,” Bobby looked as tired as you felt. You hated him feeling like he needed to take care of all of you, but you appreciated everything he had done for you all over the years. You didn’t feel like having an actual conversation, and Bobby was about as keen as Dean was for the ‘chick-flick’ moments; so you just smiled at him and looked back out the window sipping on your second cup of coffee, letting it seep into your bones.

****

It was mid-afternoon by the time Sam finally came back inside. You were not paying attention to the book you were meant to be reading on the couch while Dean was field stripping and cleaning every gun he could get his hands on, and Bobby was off doing whatever Bobby does. You closed your book without marking your page and stood, not taking your eyes off of Sam; who was looking everywhere but at you.

“Sam?” Your voice was barely over a whisper, but he flinched like you had slapped him. Dean froze in place, but didn’t turn to face his brother.

“Look…I- I know that I fucked up. I should have said something sooner about Lucifer.” He stopped and was focusing on something in the corner of the room. Your heart clenched, knowing that it was Lucifer. “I know that things aren’t right with me right now and that we’re going to have to work on fixing that. Until then, I’m just going to have to…I don’t know, keep fighting.”

“And we’ll help you,” you went to go to him and he tensed, the floor boards creaking under him.

“Just, don’t. I can’t-”

“No, you don’t. Don’t push me out,” you took another step forward, like you were approaching a wounded animal. “I am going to help you get through this. We,” you motioned to Dean, who still wouldn’t turn around, “will help you get through this.”

“She’s right Sam,” Dean finally stood and rounded on his brother. He took two steps to stand directly between the two of you. “I’m going to tell you this, and I’m only going to say it once, so listen up.” Sam’s lips were a thin line and he barely nodded to let Dean know that he was listening. “Anything else happens to her, anything, and you have me to answer to. Now, if it were up to me, we’d be sending her away, somewhere else, anywhere. The farther away from you the better for her. But she’s not going to go, she won’t leave you no matter what,” he looks at you over his shoulder with the slightest hint of a smirk, “that’s a stubborn one you’ve got there,” he took a deep breath. “Just, you can’t lie to us, you gotta let us know what’s going on with you.”

“I know, I know,” Sam hung his head, defeated but he seemed to relax a little. “I just, I’m having to work harder on telling what’s real and what’s not.”

“You don’t know what’s real? Man, I’ve been to Hell, I know a thing or two about torture,” Dean let his words linger before continuing, “Enough to know that it feels different than the pain of this regular, stupid, crappy…this.”

Sam looked at him desprately, “How can you know that for sure?”

Dean reached toward him, “Let me see your hand,” Sam looked down then behind Dean to the other side of the room, “your gimp hand, let me see it.”

Sam didn’t budge, just kept his focus behind his brother. Dean reached forward and grabbed Sam’s bandaged hand, “Hey, this is real. Not a year ago, not in Hell, now. I was with you when you cut it, I sewed it up.” Sam just kept staring at him, unbelieving, “Look,” Dean shoved his thumb right into the center of the wound and held his other hand out to stop you when you came forward. “This is different, right? Than the crap that’s tearing into your walnut? I’m different, right?”

Sam had a look of shock on his face, “Yeah, I think so.” He kept his eyes past you and Dean like he was trying to believe what he was seeing.

“Sam?” Both you and Dean were trying to get his attention, before you noticed that he had started squeezing his hand.

“Hey, I am your flesh and blood brother, OK? I am the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real time. You got away, we got you out Sammy. Believe in that,” Sam’s hand was bleeding through the bandages he was pushing into it so hard. “Believe me, come on, you gotta believe me. You gotta make it stone number one and build on it, you understand?”

Sam’s breaths were coming harder, but more shallow, something had happened. He was looking directly at Dean now, “Yeah, OK.”

“OK,” they kept eye contact for a moment before Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulder, nodded, and went back to his guns; his shoulders significantly less tense than they had been.

You stepped forward and reached for Sam’s hand. He flinched away from you, but you grabbed him anyways. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb and watched his face. When he finally looked at you your heart broke, he looked utterly destroyed.

****

Sam was sitting at the foot of the bed, not looking at you, not letting you touch him. Every few minutes he would shift his weight or mumble something. You couldn’t think for the life of you what you could do to help him. 

 

Suddenly he was on his feet and had grabbed his gun, aiming it at the dresser on the opposite side of the room from where you sat. “No,” Sam’s voice was shaky but his hand was steady.

“Sam?” You jumped as he swung the gun around on you. Instinct kicked in and you lifted your arms, palms facing front, showing that you were not a threat. “Sam, it’s me.” He shifted the gun to the foot of the bed.

“How do I know? You say your you, but how do I know?”

“Hey,” you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood slowly, hands still in the air, “Sam. You know it’s me, I’ve been here the whole time.”

He looked from you back to the end of the bed. “I don’t know that for sure…do you understand me?”

“OK, alright. So you need proof right?” You took two careful steps toward him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights; his eyes were dark, almost brown, and absolutely wild. Sam kept alternating between aiming the gun at you and the foot of the bed. “Sam, look at me…at me.” As you got within a couple feet of him he aimed the gun back at you, but his hand was shaking now. “It’s like Dean said, I’m different,” you reached out your hand to touch him, he flinched but let you grab him. You didn’t do like Dean did and make him feel pain, instead you traced your fingers on the under side of his wrist and watched as his eyes closed and he let out a breath. Taking his hand you led it to your chest and held it against your heart, “You feel that? You feel me? Sammy, please.” You were pushing down the tears that were threatening to overtake your vision. 

He took in a sharp breath and opened his eyes, looking directly at you, he let you take the gun and he pushed on his injured palm again. He turned his attention to the end of the bed for a moment longer, then his shoulders relaxed and he slumped against you, “I am so sorry y/n. I just, I don’t know what to do.”

“You keep fighting, you always keep fighting and remember that you are not alone.” You put your hands on either side of his face looking him dead in the eyes, “You are not alone. I am here with you, always.”

“Y/n,” your name a prayer on his lips, begging forgiveness and salvation all at once. 

“I’m here babe, I’m right here,” you were holding him as best as you could with the height difference. Leading him back to the bed he leaned into you with his head at your chest while you leaned up against the pillows. You stroked his head and kept up your reassurances as he steadied his breathing. After a few minutes he turned his face to look up at you, his eyes a burning honey amber color you’ve never really seen before. He seemed to be searching for something in your eyes, what you weren’t sure, you just need him to know that you were there for him, in every way. Slowly, you tilted you head down to his and gently but firmly pressed your lips to his. He breathed you in and shifted himself to deepen the kiss. His tongue ran along your bottom lip, begging entrance, which you happily granted. You held him to you, stroking his hair and rubbing his back, everything to let him know that you weren’t going anywhere.

As you leaned backwards he came with you, balancing himself over you, still not seeming to want to touch you. You spread your legs and he tucked in between them, but wouldn’t let himself press into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer to you, but he tilted his head away from your face and held himself as far from you as he could. Choking back tears you tried to get him to meet your eyes, you grabbed his chin and turned him to face you, “Sam?”

He wouldn’t open his eyes, but he brought his head back down to your chest and almost crushed you with his weight, unable to hold himself up any longer. His breathing was ragged and shallow, “I can’t…”

“Shhh, shhhh, Sam,” your heart was breaking and you were openly crying now, “shhhhh…you don’t have to Sam. Dammit, what can I do? Please…”

“I’m so sorry…” he inhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath, “I keep hurting you. I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything, babe. Just…let me help you.” You took a deep breath to control your voice as you continued, “and you’re not hurting me, I’m just worried about you. I need to help you, let me…” you grabbed his face and rubbed your thumbs over his cheek bones, bringing his forehead to yours.

In one swift move you tucked your heels behind his knees and rolled the both of you over so that you were holding him down with your body. You pressed your pelvis into his and your lips onto his mouth, and you grabbed him by the hair with both hands to hold him down. He gripped at your back and your hair, a mixture of feeling and trying to get away; you grabbed his hands and laced your fingers together and put them above his head.

“No, Sam, let me show you…just, feel me,” you ground your hips into his and pressed your bra-less top into his chest, the thin tee shirts doing very little to deter the sensations. He moaned into your mouth when you kissed him again. Letting go of one of his hands you moved your way down his long torso, fingers tracing lightly over his nipples, his ribs, that tantalizing V under his shirt where his hips dipped further down to his hardening cock. You ran your fingers through the hair that led there, and he sucked in a sharp breath when your fingers skirted under his pants and over the base of his erection.

Backing your face away from his you looked into his eyes, making sure that everything you were doing was OK and not pushing him too far. You leaned your body farther down on his and kissed him harder than before. You were relentless and thorough in your detailed inventory of his body. Making sure that he could feel everything you were doing to him, keeping him with you in the present, not giving him a chance to second guess himself.

Taking your time, you made sure to hit all of those secret spots you knew drove Sam out of his mind. That’s exactly where he needed to be right now. He needed a reset and you knew exactly how to do that and bring him right back to you. 

You took your time, taking his sleeping pants down his long legs and off of him, then his shirt, and finally your own shirt and underwear. You started at the top and worked your way down, running your fingers through his hair and using your mouth to work your way down his jaw and neck. Then moving down his torso, paying special attention to his nipples and that spot on the side of his right ribs.

You worked your way down his ribs and suckled and nipped at his hips along his mind blowing V straight down to his now leaking cock. By the time you got to his base, Sam was incoherent, just how you wanted him. You set to your work worshiping his cock; giving attention to everything from one thigh to the other, his tip all the way down to his base, you skillfully played with his balls and even teased his cleansed pucker to get some extra noise out of him; really give him a good work over. You took him into your mouth and worked him thoroughly with your tongue and hands. You traced his vein with your tongue and rounded his head before taking him back into your mouth. You stuck a pre-come wetted finger into his ass as you domed him completely and worked him hard until he came, pulsing deeply into your throat.

He hadn’t touched you the entire time, his hands were fisted in the covers; not realizing that until after you had finished him. But he was breathing deeply and fully. When you looked at his face he had the widest spread smile, releasing his dimples. You haven’t seen him smile like that in weeks. Laying your head on his chest you looked up to his face. He wrapped his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair, and caressing your arms.

He chuckled to himself, “Damn, y/n, the things you do to me. I needed that, babe.”

“I know, you over analyze things and just need to be…distracted for a few.”

He hefted a laugh out, “Yeah, distracted, is that what you call it?”

“Well, I have my own special way of getting you to focus and feel how things are more real than others, don’t I? At least now you know…I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”

“Really, y/n…the Beatles?”

“Whatever, you love me, and love is all we need,” you stayed on top of him as he ran his hands over you, studying your body, “we’ll get through this. Any time you need me to remind you, show you, prove to you what’s real. You come to me. I will do whatever I need to do to prove that you are here with us, even if that means driving you my very own kind of crazy.” You winked at him and he smiled as you kissed him.

At least there was one way to keep Sam in the now. Hopefully it would be able to last until you could find a more permanent solution.


End file.
